Blast it all.
The women were speaking quietly as they walked up to the front door, but Owen would not have heard them had they been directing their conversation to him. He was distracted by the effect a simple touch of the hand had on him and how he could conquer it.
Time away, perhaps.
No, if nine years did nothing, another fortnight would be useless.
The door opened to permit them, and they were welcomedinto the entryway as the butler took their shawls and Owen’s coat and hat. He led them toward the drawing room, where Owen noted a decided lack of conversation. The entire house, in fact, was quiet. Either the Buckley party had been the first to arrive, or this was not to be the large affair he had imagined.
He watched Emma as they entered the drawing room, but her passive smile gave nothing away. Surely she was broiling beneath the surface to see her home so altered.
Simon Yardley stood with his back to the fireplace, his fist resting against his side in a pose that made him appear powerful and at ease simultaneously. Perched on the edge of the seat at his elbow was a pretty blonde woman with a vaguely familiar countenance, though she looked very much like her brother, so that could be the reason she tugged at his memory. Owen didn’t recall interacting with her much in the past. If they had, she did not make an impression that stayed with him.
“Welcome,” Simon said brightly. He put a hand out for his sister, and she took it and rose. Her smile was soft, her eyes downcast. She appeared the sort of woman who was very much aware of her beauty and knew how to use it to her advantage. The way she walked to meet them in the center of the room further proved that.
“Thank you for inviting us to your home,” Aunt Clara said.
Simon appeared to wave this sentiment away. “My sister and I enjoy entertaining. Do we not, Sophia?”
“It is a joy, of course,” she answered sweetly. “But I am afraid you are ahead of yourself. No one has introduced me to the captain, yet.”
“Are you not known to one another?” Simon cringed. “Forgive me. A good deal of time has passed since we last had the pleasure of your company in Derbyshire, Captain. Though I will own it was not atthishouse we did any entertaining. You might recall we lived?—”
“Simon.”
“Yes, of course. Captain Buckley, allow me to present my sister, Miss Sophia Yardley.”
He bowed to her, and she dipped in an elegant curtsy, her eyes fastening on him as she rose.
Owen was forced to look away, the heat of her stare making him uncomfortable. Good heavens, she was not subtle.
A knock at the door preceded the butler once again, and he announced the addition of Mr. Lofton. Owen made the mistake of looking at Emma when the newcomer was announced and seeing her eyes light up.
A sharp knife pierced through him. He forced himself to pleasantly join the group and allow them to make proper introductions, learning that Mr. Lofton was a widower who had moved into the house the Yardleys vacated when they bought Thornbrook Hall. He was a gentleman of some means then, but no great fortune. To Owen’s great surprise, he appeared older, as well. At least five-and-thirty, if not nearer to forty years old. Gray had already begun to seep into his side whiskers and lighten the hair at his temples. Wrinkles fanned the edges of his eyes and bracketed his mouth.
Surely Emma’s joy at his arrival was merely because he was a friend, and nothing more. This man was too old for her.
“It is an informal affair this evening,” Simon announced. “You may sit where you wish.” He immediately made his way to Aunt Clara’s side and offered his arm, which she accepted with some obvious hesitation.
Left beside Miss Yardley, Owen had no choice but to offer his escort to her. “Would you allow me to take you in to dinner, Miss Yardley?”
“I would enjoy that very much.” She fluttered her lashes, wrapping her hand around his arm. The group was seated shortly, each person so near each other it had not mattered who walked with whom. The oval table did not have a head or a foot, permitting each person to speak easily to the entire party.
“My brother tells me you have suffered a great loss in coming here. I wish the circumstances of your visit had been better. We admired Mr. Buckley greatly.”
Owen lifted his goblet and took a drink. The sentiment certainly endeared him to her. “Thank you.”
“He was very glad to have your company on his return journey. Thank you for joining him.”
“It was a fortuitous circumstance.”
“Indeed. He told me of it, and I could hardly credit it. All those miles away and he found someone destined for Briarstead? Unbelievable.”
Owen considered her overdone gown and mature hair. She was much younger than her appearance was meant to make her look. Perhaps she spoke the way she did to make her seem older.
“You are not from here,” Miss Yardley said. “Where are your parents?”
“Yorkshire. My father and stepmother have a house there, but they enjoy traveling to seaside towns as frequently as their constitutions and purse allows.”
